The Lotus Diaries
by cherryblossomjen
Summary: Alex is being hunted by a member of the Circle Gang when he spots a mysterious island on the horizon line. Will it mean his salvation or his demise? Chapter 2, 'The Empress,' is up.
1. Chapter 1: The Island

Timeline: Set just after the Wimbledon events in _Skeleton Key_. The Big Circle Gang is still after Alex, offended that he's outsmarted two of their members. AU from that point, mostly.

Disclaimer: No affiliation with Anthony Horowitz, Puffin or Walker Books. You're shocked, I can tell.

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**T h e . L o t u s . D i a r i e s**

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Chapter One: The Island

"Some thro' wavering lights and shadows broke,  
Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below...  
From the inner land: far off, three mountain-tops,  
Three silent pinnacles of aged snow...  
They sat them down upon the yellow sand,  
Between the sun and moon upon the shore."

-- Lord Alfred Tennyson, "The Lotus-Eaters"

The island stood, the definition of enigma.

For Alex, one moment the sea was an endless blue; the next, it was the backdrop to a single atoll - coral reef, gold sands and three distinct purplish mountain tops, sugar coated with a layer of snow.

Alex almost laughed, wondering if he'd stumbled upon Neverland. It was more likely the product of delirium.

He hadn't drank anything for hours. It felt like years. The emptiness in his stomach was a distant ache, but his throat scratched as though clogged with the prickly ends of a cotton bush. Worse than the hunger and the thirst was his confusion. One minute, he was a ball boy at the games in Wimbledon, and the next he was tied to a chair in some kind of abandoned warehouse on China's west coast. He'd had enough with being tied to chairs already, a permanent groove now lining his wrists from the sheer amount of times it happened.

While he didn't remember the events, Alex assumed the man who cornered him at the stadium was a member of the Circle Gang and had taken him to his Big Brothers for interrogating. How Alex managed to remain unconscious for the entire trip from south-west London to China was beyond him, but it mattered little at this point. From what Mrs. Jones had said about them, the only way he'd make it out of the clutches of the Circle Gang alive was to escape.

So he did.

Being a fourteen year old kid gave Alex one frequent advantage: he was always underestimated. Despite knowing his history with MI5 and the CIA, the villain-of-the-week could not help but take one look at the child (albeit a very fit, acerbic child) in front of him and let his guard down. And once his opponent's guard was down, Alex would find an advantage. It might get dirty and push him beyond what he thought he was capable of. But he would do it. He had to.

After the initial we're-going-to-scare-you-and-leave-you-to-think tactic, the Big Brothers left one member to guard Alex. It was a crucial mistake. Alex couldn't overpower the man - he was built like a wall - but he could outwit him...

A grenade exploded two feet from his jet ski, sending a deluge of pressurized salt water onto his face. It stung like mad. But he didn't have time to rub his eyes. Or even blink, for that matter. The man chasing him would have no sympathy for momentary delusions; he'd use any chance to run him down.

Alex heard the roar of the man's speedboat -- a lion-like vrooom against the crashing waves.

He needed a plan, quick.

If that mysterious island wasn't real, he didn't have a chance. If it was, he had a slight greater chance.

With sudden decisiveness, Alex made a run for the island - a seemingly straight line towards its mark.

Alex would have known the man was following him, even if a spray of bullets hadn't streamed by him to confirm it.

There were ripples in the waves below him and Alex wondered if the man could now see the island too. Was he surprised?

Alex hoped so, using that moment of utter confusion to twist his water bike towards the boat, on a course to meet it head on.

Then, Alex jumped. Head first, he dove into the piercing cold water, a hundred shards of ice seeming to rip into his skull.

He moved his arms in front of him, resisting the urge to go towards the surface. He had to stay out of sight as long as possible.

Kicking the water, he willed the island closer.

When he could hold his breath no longer he came to the surface. It was just in time to see a cloud of orange and white debris as the two boats collided.

Then, as though neither vessel had ever been there - they vanished. Zapped away.

Alex gasped.

He looked towards the island again. Yes, it was there, unfazed by the scene so near its shores. It called to him...

Alex went to it.

As he stumbled about the shore, the ground felt strange to his limbs. It seemed like he'd wrestled with the sea for hours. In reality, he had no clue how long it had been.

Alex looked about, not sure where to go from there. He felt the urge to collapse but made himself stand upright. He looked again to the horizon line, searching for any sign of the boats or their wreckage.

Lost in the view, he didn't hear the footsteps approaching behind him.

Before he could turn, something hard struck him in the head. He fell forward, onto the sand, the grit of salt and sand between his teeth a final sensation before succumbing to blackness.

To be continued...

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Author's notes, exploding bombshells and the like: I made a few revisions to the first and second chapter. They needed to be polished up. Still, you might find a few fantastical elements in this piece (fantastic -- as in 'over-the-top,' not 'oh, my work is wonderful'). I think I really like when things are a little 'out there,' but tell me if you ever feel it's too much. I would _love _to have your feedback on character development, writing style, tone, pretty much anything... So, cookies for reviewers!


	2. Chapter 2: The Empress

**Chapter Two: The Empress**

"Make tea, not war"  
-- Monty Python's Flying Circus

"He has yet to regain consciousness."

"That doesn't matter. The sooner he's disposed of the better."

The guard looked down at the so-called intruder: he was a child, only a few years younger than his own son. Poor thing. His body was limp, cuts and bruises peeking through the holes of his tattered clothes. The guard frowned. "The empress may want to see him."

The other man paled, his thin fingers shaking as he pointed. "We no longer bother the Empress with trivial matters like these," he said. "Understand?"

The guard narrowed his eyes. "I understand perfectly, Captain."

The captain lifted his chin, his shoulder-length red hair bouncing with the movement. "Good," he said, feeling as though he'd come out the victor. "Get rid of him."

A bell chimed from the far wall. The Captain turned to answer it, a large screen emerging from the wall and flickering in front of him. A woman appeared on the screen.

The guard couldn't make out their conversation, but he almost grinned when he saw the barely restrained anger hiding behind the Captain's face.

The transmission chimed off. Without meeting the guard's eyes, the Captain made his way to the door, his shoulders slumped forward. He turned to face the guard "Bring him to the Empress at once. She wants to see the little miscreant."

The guard smiled, a small triumphant grin.

--

Gasp. Cold! Cold water! Alex shivered, half awake, water dripping from his face as someone stood nearby ready to spash him again. He was on his knees. For a moment he thought he'd dreamt up the entire episode with the island and was now living out his final moments on the bottom of the ocean. But then someone spoke.

"Wake up!" The man's voice was rough and Alex couldn't make out the accent.

Water hit him in the face once again and Alex coughed, gasping for breath. He opened his eyes, the blurred picture gradually coming into view. He was in a round room with an immensely high ceiling. Or maybe it just felt immensely high from his position on the ground. White marble everywhere – the floor, the walls, the _throne_.

Alex blinked at that. Somehow, of all the places he expected to be, the middle of an elaborate throne room hadn't quite made the list.

"Come closer, boy," a woman said, her voice different -- smooth but firm.

Alex looked up. The woman occupied the center throne, a thin silver crown stretching across her forehead. Portions of her hair formed several buns around her head, while the rest surrounded her like a black waterfall. She wore a kimono-like robe that puffed at the shoulders and thinned at the waist, the sleeves extending to the ground.

Alex approached her, kneeling because it seemed appropriate.

She looked down at him, her face expressionless. "Who are you?"

"My name is Alex."

"Why have you come to my island, Alex?"

"Oh, you know, the travel brochures just made it seem so appealing."

A man with red hair stood a few feet from the throne. Alex hadn't noticed him before. He was the kind of man you were sorry you noticed. He stepped forward, looking like a dog on the verge of attack. "You _imbecile_," he said, his arm stretched towards Alex. "How dare you treat the Empress with such insolence!"

"Control yourself, Captain," the empress said, her eyes fixed on him. "Tell me, whose throne room is this?"

The man looked down. "Yours, empress."

"I thought so," she said, her voice not raising an octave. "And whose palace is this?"

"Yours, empress."

"And tell me, Captain, who dictates what can or cannot be said in my palace?"

The man stood erect, his hands balled into fists beside him. "You do, empress."

"Exactly," she said, her voice suddenly sharp with emphasis. "Besides, it's hardly appropriate to shout at the boy for having a sense of humor. Perhaps you should look into acquiring one for yourself."

The captain exited the room in a huff and Alex heard the guardsman behind him snort in barely controlled laughter.

The empress returned her attention to Alex, her mask in place once again. "Come, let me look at you," she said, motioning him towards her.

He came closer, within a foot from her throne, allowing her to study him.

"You are very young," she said, more to herself than to Alex.

He was about to reply with another sarcastic retort when she grasped his chin with her hand, moving it to the left and right for closer inspection of his face. Alex was reminded of the spinster aunts in children's films who felt the need to torture their nieces and nephews. He would have to draw the line at pinching his cheeks, empress or not. Fortunately, she didn't pinch his cheeks.

She did, however, observe his red, swollen eyes and chapped lips. The torn clothing and bruises were hard to miss as well.

She pursed her lips together. "I think you need some tea."

Alex blinked.

He wasn't sure if she was keeping him around simply to annoy the man she called Captain but he didn't really care. The moment she mentioned the word tea he felt the soreness in his throat reemerge. A thousand tiny needles pricked him as he swallowed. When was the last time he had a drink?

"Guard," the empress continued, "show the boy to some quarters. He'll need dinner and a pot of Tarkhelian tea. In fact, station him near the children. The company may do them good."

Before Alex could step backwards, the guardsman was behind him, gently prodding him towards the door.

He heard the empress call out from behind him as he left. "Rest now, Alex," she said, "but I will need to know why you were sent here eventually."

Alex would have replied, but when he turned to face her, she was gone.

To be continued…

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Author's note: Special thanks to ElvinDragon, Anonymous-chic, Jacklyn I. McMarrz, Hellothere, and Jalla for reviewing the first chapter. I really, really appreciate it.

Opinion question for you: What do you think is Alex's greatest fear? I'm working on a chapter and want to see how a discussion could contribute to how I write it…


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